Burn It to the Ground
by jouissance
Summary: Written for Happy Ending Week Day 3. Dark OQ discover Queenies past hidden in the castle.


**Happy Ending Week Day 3 - Dark OQ**

* * *

He'd been looking for her for the better part of the morning. They hadn't been in this new Enchanted Forest long, in her old palace even less. The palace was vast. Although Robin prided himself on quickly learning all ins and outs of any place (valuable job skill as it was) he would be the first to admit that this place had him stumped. When he thought he was going left, he was going right. The corridor that should have led to the kitchens deposited him in the library. The whole place was a bloody maze. He wondered if it was intentional. Strike that, he's sure it was. Regina, he's learned, doesn't doing anything without intention. Neither does he. It's one of the many reasons he finds to fall more in love with her each day.

When he finally finds her she's in a room littered with relics. Coats of arms hang covered in dust that mask their true colors, white sheets cover large canvases making them look more ghost than art. She doesn't see him enter so he stays back, tucks himself behind a banner left to wither away, and watches her. She's uncovered one of those portraits, the sheet still hangs from her hand. Her back is rigid, chin upturned, her own sad eyes stare her down.

The work is exquisite, Robin must admit. He's never seen a painting bear such a likeness to it's subject. He can see the light reflect off the crown she wears, the carefully constructed curls that hang just above her shoulders, the desperate loneliness in her eyes. Regina stares and stares at the person she used to be, the person he had never known. There's no spark in the woman in the portrait, no sign of the fire that he loves to stoke and let flame.

He's about to reveal himself to her when she drops the drape and walks right past him unseeing, disappearing down the maze of hallways. When he can't hear her steps echo any longer, Robin moves. He begins pulling cover after cover letting them collect at his feet. They're all the same artist, the same acute attention to detail. Many feature the King, his former wife, the Princess Snow White, but the majority are of her-or rather the shell she used to be.

He has no comparison to her life before she became the evil queen. In his realm, he'd only ever heard fables of her as a sorceress that had been vanquished. She never tells him about her past and he thinks this must be why. Some stories should never be retold, some memories never immortalized. Before he even thinks about what he's doing, Robin is ripping canvas from frame, gathering them up and heading out of this room that is nothing more than a tomb of her past.

* * *

She looks for him for the better part of the afternoon. No doubt he's gotten himself lost in the castle again. She should provide him with a map; it's really quite simple to navigate once you know what to look for, but she enjoys watching his frustration at missing dinner because he was trapped in the bloody library. It's not that she doesn't make up for it though. They always seem to find time for dessert. Regina smirks at the thought. Maybe that's what she needs today: a good distraction from the confines of these walls.

She really hadn't planned to come back to this place, but once they found themselves back in her land with nowhere to go it seemed foolish _not_ to take up residence in her old palace. It's days like today that she regrets that decision, wishes they had built themselves a little house by the lake and started all over.

Those paintings never should have been there. She'd ordered them all destroyed when she took the throne, had banished the artist from the kingdom on charges of high treason, but Regina could see in the woman's eyes as they dragged her from the court that she knew her true crime. She had seen too much of the queen's broken heart and shown it to the world with color and brush.

Regina makes her way to the gardens after coming up empty in her search for him inside. She lets her mind wander as her feet take her along a well worn path to the orchards. She almost misses the arrow headed straight for her heart. Almost. Years spent under Rumple's tutelage had left her reflexes honed and she reacts on instinct, stopping the weapon barely an inch from her heart. "Where did you come from?" Robin yells to her, not looking the least bit guilty about almost ending her life.

"This is my palace. I'll come and go as I please," she reminds him with a coy smile, dropping arrow back into his hand. "You missed," she teases.

"I wouldn't have if you hadn't have gotten in my way. My aim is true, Milady."

"And what is it that you were aiming at? If you're shooting down my apples I'm going to…" her words stop as she turns as sees just what his target is. There's a large portrait of King Leopold on their wedding day stuck to the trunk of the tree she just crossed in front of. He sits in his throne and she stands dutifully at his side. The sight of it makes her ill. But then there's another whizzing past her ear and she watches as Robin's arrow embeds itself right between Leopold's lecherous eyes.

She laughs, chuckles at first but soon its full, loud and boisterous and she can't bring herself to stop. Her eyes water, but for once her tears are not ones of sadness.

"I stumbled across an old storage room of sorts today," he says innocently enough that she could believe him if she didn't know him so well. "Absolutely nothing of value inside, until I found these," he reaches his arm out drawing her attention to the numerous portraits pinned around them. "I've been looking for something useful for target practice," he lets another arrow fly, this one landing in the dead king's chest. "One can't let one's skills get rusty. Care for a go?" he asks like it's the most natural thing in the world, like they're shooting at a bullseye and not memories of a painful past.

"I don't need to practice with pointy sticks," she raises an eyebrow to him as she summons fire to her palm and launches it to the target he just shot. It burns quickly; he watches the reflection of the spreading fire in her eyes. He sees the shift when her younger face withers to ash, a burden that she's carried since they walked through the palace doors is suddenly gone. She looks to him, seeming to ask permission which he readily gives with a slight nod of his head. Regina launches flame after flame. The portraits burn quickly, the flags and pennants as well, some old armor that he'd drug out takes a bit more coaxing, but eventually succumbs to her power.

When the orchard is in ruin around them she turns her attention the the palace itself. She hates it. Hates everything about it: it's spires and winding staircases that go nowhere, the courtyards that were always too hot or too cold, everything it took from her, everything it turned her into.

His hand is warm on the small of her back, a gentle assurance that he's with her no matter what. "I don't want to stay here," her voice sounds surprised, as if she's realizing it for the first time.

He steps in front of her, momentarily blocking her view. He's known that she's been uneasy in this place since the moment they arrived. That is reason enough for him to want it gone. Add his general hatred of the monstrosity and Robin can think of absolutely no reason to stop her. "Burn it to the ground," he whispers as he kisses her cheek, stepping aside to let her do just that.

Regina takes a breath, just one, before fire explodes from both hands, arching through the air and winding around the castle; strangling it as it always had her.

They stand silently shoulder to shoulder (Robin's arm eventually looping her waist and resting on her hip) watching the castle crumble until the sun is low in the sky. He's the first to break the silence with "I've always fancied a cottage by the lake." He's answered with a bigger smile than he's ever seen her wear. It crinkles at her eyes, scrunches her nose. Then she's nodding, and kissing him. Maybe it was a rash decision; maybe they'll have to find the lake before they can even start building a home, but he's no stranger to nights spent under the stars and if that's the only sacrifice he has to make to see her happiness rise from the ashes, Robin will sleep in the woods until his dying day.


End file.
